Waking Dreams
by zephyrchild
Summary: Post-season 5.   Dean deals with his choices at the end of last season. Fantasies never pan out the way we plan. Dreams tend to screw us over. Never mind what happens when they bleed into reality
1. Just Another Nightmare

Rating: M

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I own nothing but plot.

Dean sat on the porch of Lisa's house.

Even after having stayed there most of the last three months, he still thought of it as Lisa's house. He sighed audibly as he lifted the glass bottle of beer to his lips and took a swig.

The impala was up on blocks in Lisa's garage. Both for maintenance and because Lisa had asked him to.

Lisa. She was beautiful, but life is a lot harder than dreams. Silly stupid fucked up dreams of sitting on blankets having picnics and looking like something out of a sitcom.

In his vision there hadn't been nearly as much credit card debt.

"Hey!" Lisa greeted him, as she closed the door behind her, "Can you mow the lawn tonight? Oh and if Ben calls let him know I've gone out with the girls. Bye!" Lisa rushed to get to her car, giving him a winning smile before she drove out of sight.

He was beginning to feel like an over qualified handyman. A longer gulp of beer seemed to help somewhat.

And to be perfectly honest? He was bored. Especially since Ben was spending the weekend with one of his friends for a birthday weekend complete with laser-tag.

Ben was his favourite thing about being here, but he'd heard so many choice phrases coming from Ben whenever he got frustrated. Two years older made a big difference, Dean noticed. Ben had remembered him, that was something. And they liked a lot of the same stuff.

The kicker was usually "you're not my father" but "why are you here" also stung.

He heard a crash in the garage. "Cas?"

Funny how that was now his first instinct. Shouting out for Cas. Damn, he was starting to miss that guy. As annoying as he was.

"What would you think of me now Sammy?" He said to no one in particular, as he finally moved to mow the lawn.

Later that night he lay awake in bed. His dreams had been awful for months. Years even. They'd gotten worse in the last year.

Eventually, either by use of alcohol or exhaustion he slipped into unconsciousness.

_It was the same. It was always the same. Sam dying. Jo dying. His dad dying. Hell hounds. That or scantily clad girls. Or clowns and midgets. But not so much lately._

_The dream changed and shifted before his eyes, a familiar face pushing too close into his. Blonde hair against his face. _

"_What are you waiting for?" Jo shot him a look, that was a challenge. Dark eyes flashing at him._

_Smaller hands gripped his own. An echo of a real kiss, then it was swallowed by the dream. Jo's lips locked to his in the dream. Her fingertips digging into his skin. His hands finding her hips and pulling her in to him, pressed close. _

_She pulled back for a moment. Dean froze in response. _

_Should he drag her back in? This was his dream after all. Might as well go with it. But something stopped him for a moment._

"_Soon." _

_This was getting weird. _

_Blood dripped from Jo's side. Organs peeped out through her shredded skin._

_Her mouth gaped open as she bled._

Dean shot up in bed. His breath heavy.

"Dean?" Lisa murmured half-asleep. "Its three am."

"Yeah. I just-uh... had to..."

"Whatever." She rolled over and went back to sleep.

Dean clambered out of the bed, stubbing his foot on one of Ben's toy cars.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly.

A mumbled reply from the bed met his ears. He managed to get to the washroom without further injury.

He managed his way back to bed, pausing at Ben's empty room out of habit. Ensuring he was asleep before making the moves on the kid's mom. Not like that was happening tonight. Early morning yoga class cut off that possibility. He finally managed to fall asleep again in bed.

_He was standing in a motel, one he couldn't place so quickly. The shower was running and it was bright outside. The bed sheets were rumpled. And it wasn't his belongings that littered the room. _

_Tanks tops and plaid shirts were flung on the floor and over chairs while knives were scattered on the small table like shrapnel from an invisible explosion. _

_None of this crap was his. He grabbed a knife from off the table and crept towards the washroom. _

_Through the clear glass of the shower stall he saw her, blurred slightly by the condensation on the glass. It was way too easy to tell. _

_He reached for the door and pulled it open, mist from the shower began to dampen his clothes. _

"_Hey!" Jo turned to meet his gaze, her left hand coming out to pull the door closed again. She made no attempt to cover herself. Didn't really see the point Dean guessed._

_He glanced down to her left side, knit closed by a spiderweb of hideous scarring._

"_In or out, Dean." _

"_What?"_

"_In or out. Shut the damn door I'm getting cold."_

"_Hey! Dead girl get out of my dream."_

"_Hey! Jackass get out of my shower." Jo shot back._

_He finally backed up. Closing the door with a surprised slam. _

_Dean wandered back to sit on the bed of the hotel. "Okay Dean, wake up."_

"_Wake up." He repeated running his hands through his own hair as he paced the floor. He heard the water go off while he was waiting. _

"_You're dead." He shouted to no one in particular._

"_So?" Jo returned, combing through her damp blonde hair with her fingers, "And you're invading my motel room." _

_The tank top she was wearing was pressed against her damp body, and Dean noticeably averted his eyes._

_She gathered up her knives and put them away in their leather case, paying no attention to Dean shifting uncomfortably on the bed. _

"_Why are we here?" He finally asked._

"_Cause self-respect's gone out of style." Jo shot back at him, throwing her stuff into a bag._

_Dean looked over at her, deciding to remind her, "You do know you're dead right?"_

"_Yeah. I know. Hellhounds, bled to death, bomb. I remember."_

"_So what are you doing here?"_

_Jo moved her hands around in a motion that was obvious supposed to mean something, "This just seems to be it."_

"_What does that even mean?"_

"_I can't go anywhere. I'm just... here." She clarified, sitting down to polish one of her blades. _

"_What about me?"_

"_Take a wild guess sleeping beauty." She smirked at him slightly._

"_Stuck?"_

_Time seemed to stretch on forever, they glanced at each other but largely ignored each other. The light remained the same in the room, the sun never rose or set. Jo sat there playing with her father's knife, or an approximation of it. Dean lay back on the messy bed staring mostly at the ceiling. Wishing this bed had magic fingers, or that the hotel room had a TV, but it didn't even have a radio. Or a phone. _

_What do you say to the dead? Do you step up and take responsibility? Apologize?_

"_So what are you up to these days?" Dean looked over and asked her._

"_Being dead generally takes up most of my time."_

_She looked at him expectantly for some sort of update on his life. He didn't want to tell her about Lisa. Or his sense of boredom in his life. He said nothing about himself._

"_You been here alone then?"_

"_Yeah. Other than the last time you popped in." Jo returned her attention to the knife, not wanting to meet his gaze._

_Even knowing this was a dream, he got up and walked over to put an arm around her somewhat comfortingly._

_She shrugged his arm off for a minute then grabbed him in a hug. _

_His arms wrapped around her, for a dream it felt pretty good._

_She pushed him back towards the bed_

"_I'm just... nevermind." She pulled her hands back._

"_Wait." He reached out for her, pulling her lips into his. It began as the echo of their only real kiss, tender and soft. _

_Dreams were never perfect, the sensation was always a bit off. But Dean went for it anyways reaching for the buttons on her shirt, beginning to undo them. Jo broke away, wiggling out of her clothes quickly. Reaching for Jo and finding pliant flesh beneath his hands. This was probably the closest he would ever come to getting to have Jo. So he made it last. Drawing out their kisses. Exploring her body, wondering if this was anything like the real thing, pressing his face between her thighs and tasting her._

_Listening to her sounds, quiet and unobtrusive. Her hands pressing his face firmly into her sex. She thrashed slightly under his mouth but he held her in place with his hands. He pleasured her until he was sure she had climaxed, her body tensing and releasing._

_Breathing heavy and flushed pink she looked down at him with satisfaction glinting on her face, a slight smirk playing on her lips. _

_Beautiful. Dean thought to himself. He was no stranger to beautiful women, though he shut down the thought that he was enjoying himself far too much._

_Neither of them noticed the face at the window watching them._

_He moved up her body in a fluid motion capturing her lips again then pulling back to adjust their position. _

_He caught sight of red, blood newly seeping from the previously sealed wound. Blood dripped from Jo's lips. Her eyes staring up at him in disbelief._

_To be continued..._


	2. Awake and Dreaming

_Authors Note: This story was written especially for a friend- but reviews don't hurt. Unbetaed. _

Dean shot up in bed, this time Lisa had left for work. The bed was unmade beside him.

"Shit."

He said to no one in particular.

One long hot shower later and he was in the garage working on the impala. It didn't need to much work this time.

Ben was dropped off and headed to the garage.

"Hey Dean, is mom home?"

"Nope."

"Eh. I was going to go over to Amy's."

"Go ahead. I'll let her know."

"Thanks, you know, of the guys my mom had stay here - you're my favourite."

"Thanks Ben." Dean redirected his attention to the car.

He watched Ben bike off down the road briefly. He did like that kid. Lisa's friends weren't nearly as discrete as they thought they were. He knew about the "best night of her life Dean" stories, as well as her various romances over the past few years. A few of whom temporarily moved in with her and Ben. It never lasted more than four months, there were already jokes about the expiration date.

Dean finished up, and took the impala off the blocks. He took a brief drive

He thought back to Jo. And his dream, it was still so clear in his mind. The only solution he could figure was more beer and a cheeseburger. He picked up a six-pack on his way back to the house.

Once again he found himself on the porch drinking beer. It was becoming his most obvious habit.

Lisa returned to find Dean on the couch, slightly drunk but mostly just fine.

"Where's Ben?"

"He's at Amy's."

"Oh. So we're alone for the evening- Are you drunk?"

"A little."

"Ah. Well want to tell me what you think of my new business cards anyways?"

Dean glanced at the card. Lisa Braeden. Yoga Instructor.

"Its nice."

"Nice?"

"No I mean it they're great. Great." Dean plastered a smile on his face.

"So you want to eat out tonight?"

"Not really."

"Hmm. Well then I'm going out with Paul."

This caught Dean's attention, "Paul?"

"From the gym? Personal trainer? He's new."

"Is he gay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh that's fine then. I'll see you later." Dean responded having figured out whether this was the kiss of death for him and Lisa. Reality had fallen short of his dream.

Lisa kissed him briefly before heading out the door.

Ben got home around nine, a few rounds of Wii later and he put himself to bed. Dean fell asleep on the couch.

_He was back in the motel. Jo was sitting cross-legged playing with a deck of cards on the bed. She looked up with relief on her face. _

"_You came back."_

"_I fell asleep again."_

"_Beats sitting here alone. Wanna play?" Jo gestured towards the cards._

_And so they played poker. He could be having insane-dream-sex with her again. But he played cards with her instead and made no move to bridge the space between them. Six rounds later and they were both lying on the bed. Staring at the ceiling waiting for Dean to wake up._

"_Tell me something about your life?" Jo asked._

"_Sam's gone. I live with Lisa, and her son Ben. Have for the last three months."_

_Jo stayed quiet for a few minutes. Whether she was pissed or processing Dean had no clue._

_Dean wondered what to do, but before he find a half-decent idea Jo had rolled herself on top of him._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_I am going to help you wake up." Jo slapped his face somewhat affectionately._

"_What?"_

"_Back to reality time Dean-o."_

_She straddled him easily and moved her hips teasingly to prove her point. _

_He groaned in response, even through their jeans it felt good._

_His fingers expertly undid her jeans sliding his hands in. Her pants came off easily, hitting the ground, his clothes followed. But her tanktop remained firmly in place. Hiding the web of scars he knew were there. Probably for the best in case she started bleeding again._

"_You really gonna keep that thing on?" Dean played with the strap of the tank. Before leaning down to bite gently at her shoulder. His hands pressed tight to her back , gripping her firmly._

_Jo hissed in response as he continued to bite along up to her neck, "Yeah."_

"_Fine." Dean briefly considered doing the same as before, just burying his face between Jo's thighs. And try to forget who he was fucking. It was unlikely she'd object._

_This was just some goddamn weird dream. He couldn't take many more of these._

_But he wanted to get his, so he flipped Jo over onto her back._

"_Hey!" Jo protested only briefly before Dean pressed into her, she ran her fingernails down his back making him groan. And their lips met again._

_Jo pushed to go faster, but Dean slowed her down, taking his time with her. Seeking out her pulse point and latching to it desperately, sucking slowly._

_Trying to make her moan, cry out for him, something._

_But all he got for his efforts were the same strangled gasps that he had heard during his last dream. Dream, that is what this was. He could fuck Jo. It was only a dream. He relaxed noticeably, even pulling her hands to where he wanted them- with some success. _

_Even as things progressed and he pushed himself deep inside her, she still didn't cry out, when he pulled his head back to look at her she was watching him intently, eyes dark before pulling him in to kiss._

Dean fell off the couch onto the floor. He cursed silently. "This is stupid." He called out. He went back to bed, where Lisa was sleeping seemingly perfectly undisturbed he crawled in with her. He pressed closer to Lisa than he did usually when they slept together. Feeling something, someone real against his skin was a comfort he craved.

Days passed in much the same way. His dreams continued to disorient him, never sure whether to expect to see brown or blonde hair in the bed beside him. He became more careless in his dreams. Sometimes just wanting to wake up. Others enjoying himself far too much.

During one particularly long dream Jo remarked that whenever he enjoyed himself too much she bled from a newly reopened fatal wound and he woke up.

It was getting stupid. Freakishly stupid. He didn't need to feel more for Jo than he did already. And she was dead. He had to remind himself of that every time he woke up.

Dean punched in the numbers for Chuck's house. He'd written it down ages ago just in case.

"Hey Dean. How's it going buddy?" The overtly happy voice on the other line answered him before he had a chance to speak.

"Chuck I got a problem-" He began.

"Trust me on this one Dean, everything works out on this one."

"You've seen it then?" Dean baited him for information.

"Some of it. Dean had passionate weird crazy sex dreams involving Joanna Harvelle, drives him-"

"Chuck, you gotta tell me how to stop this."

"Can't." The response was quick.

"You don't understand this-"

"I don't think I can, things are already in motion Dean. I just write it."

"Is there anything you can tell me?"

"Castiel has been spying on your dreams. Angel-boy is getting kinky."

"Great. But how do I get it to stop."

"I gotta go man, got a meeting with the publisher tomorrow."

"Not helping Chuck. Bye." Dean hung up the phone

Dean slammed his hand against the nearest wall. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall. What now?

"You ok?" Ben asked him

"Yeah I'm fine Ben, what do you say we go clock some more Wii time."

"Did my mom kick you out?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Cause you look like Rob when mom kicked him out. And we're playing Wii together way too much."

Dean chuckled slightly,"I might be going away for a bit Ben. But your mom didn't kick me out."

"Right. That's what Karl said."

"Karl?"

"Two boyfriends ago," Ben rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure my mom kicked him out too."

"Oh."

Later that night Dean attempted to avoid falling asleep. He sat outside in a wooden lawn chair. Eventually, staring out at the vastness of their backyard he drifted off.

_The motel never changed. The light was blinding, but that was all that could be seen of the outside. He stared out the window trying to get a sense of where they were._

"_What is this place really?"_

"_My new prison?"_

"_I'm serious."_

_Jo glanced over at him from her spot on the bed, "Some crappy motel I stayed at once."_

"_It's real?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_No TV? No phone?"_

"_It was sketchy." Jo shrugs slightly._

"_I've had worse." Dean added._

"_And I don't want to know about it." She cut him off happily._

"_I just want to wake up." Dean cut her off, though he said it as gently as possible._

_Jo sat up, "So no shooting the breeze with the dead girl?"_

"_Exactly. This is my dream. You are in it."_

"_It's my motel room." She replied defensively._

"_In my dream," Dean shot back._

"_So wake yourself up. Oh wait. You need me for that."_

_The brief silence that followed was almost unbearable._

"_You gonna help me or not?"_

_He received no response._

_Instead the rustling of the plaid shirt being tossed over her head revealing a purple tank top._

"_Is this a strip tease?" Dean smiled. This was more like the good dreams he was used to._

_The only response was Jo's pants tossed at his shoulder._

_But he waited for her to come closer, she didn't. Instead he glanced over to see her touching herself._

"_Son of a bitch." He murmured. Dean reached out and grabbed her by the hips. _

_It was the first time he ever went rough on her. _

_She went with it, with as before. _

_And before either of them had the chance to fully satisfy themselves the dream ended._


	3. The Dream Dreams the Dreamer

He said goodbye to Lisa the next morning, she understood. Sort of. He told he he was on a hunt. Something paranormal was happening to him and he had to track it down.

"Can you tell me what it is."

"You won't like it."

"I don't want to know." The words rushed out of her mouth.

"Figured as much."

"Will you be coming back?" Lisa asked. She seemed very unbothered by the whole event. It was time to move on he guessed. They were both feeling it.

"I don't know."

"Well what will I tell Ben?"

"He thinks you kicked me out."

Lisa smiled and laughed, "Take care of yourself Dean."

"You too." Dean gave her a quick kiss, and that was it.

He got his stuff, piled into his impala and just drove. He didn't really have a destination in mind. Maybe he'd break down Chuck's door until he told him what was going on. Either way, he went straight on through until he'd crossed the state line out of Indiana. The road stretched out in front of him. It was calming. Familiar.

"We're back baby." He said to his car affectionately rubbing the dash.

He should miss Lisa. And Ben. But all he felt was relief.

This was where his world made sense. His car, the road. Lots of heavy weaponry in the back. His music.

He must have drove for hours. Stopping to eat, use the can, and continued on. Backroads, the scenic route. It didn't matter where he was going so long as it was fast.

The he saw it.

"I can't sleep now." He banged the wheel briefly. Hopefully he wasn't asleep at the wheel somewhere.

There she was standing at the side of the road. In the same clothes she died in. And she was gone in a flash.

He pulled a u-turn on the deserted stretch of road. The few seconds it took for Jo to reappear in view made his heart pound. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw her again. It thrilled him way too much to see her, images of the previous dreams pounded through his mind. Him taking Jo in various ways all over the imaginary motel room. He pulled over quickly on the shoulder of the road.

He rolled down the window, "You gonna get in or what?"

She looked vaguely shaken. "Alright." She crossed the deserted road.

Her clothes were bloodstained. But Jo herself looked clean. She opened the passenger side door and slid in before closing it behind her.

"This is different." Jo shrugged.

"I guess. Finally escaped the motel I guess." Dean glanced for signs, a motel, and off-road, anything. Just somewhere private enough to fuck Jo and have this stupid dream end.

"Yeah I guess."

"Let me know if you see a spot so I can pull over."

"Are you serious?"

"Well. Yeah."

"Sure as hell ain't my fantasy." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

Admittedly, he loved his car.

"There's an old gas station." She pointed it out.

"I saw it."

"Just checking." She rested her head on the window.

Dean parked the car, as far from the road as possible, hoping it would hide them just enough.

"Alright. So let's-" He was cut off by a rustling sound as Jo sighed, obviously meant to indicate her annoyance, and clambered back between the seats to the backseat.

"You coming princess?" She teased him, seemingly enjoying herself.

Frustration laced his voice, "Shut up. I just want to get this over and wake up. Understand? Get back to reality."

"Yeah. Sure." The hurt was briefly apparent on her face before she covered it over.

Dean opened opened the door, tossing his leather jacket off and on to the front passenger's seat.

"And you better not be bleeding on my seats, dream or no dream." He added for good measure.

She smiled slightly and laughed a little as Dean slammed the driver's door shut, and opened the door for the back seat.

"I'm not joking." Dean said as he slammed the door behind him.

"I know."

With the doors closed, and off the highway it was totally nearly completely dark. A faint glow reached them from the nearest lamp-post.

He reached out for her roughly, she resisted him for only a moment. Pressing their lips together almost too hard, a clash of mouths and tongues.

Despite his earlier claims of wanting to get it over with, he just kissed her hard for what seemed like a long time. Until she gave herself over to it. Arms wrapping around him and pushing herself into him.

It was Jo who reached for his shirt, tugging it off as quickly as possible. Hands delighting in access to his skin. His lips slipped to her throat, teeth grazing and biting, met with a soft moan.

His hands slipping under her ruined shirt, quickly pulling it off her body, the remaining buttons snapping. He felt around for the wound, it wasn't there. No scar. Nothing but soft skin.

Relieved he continued, Jo's hand reached for the button of her jeans, he pulled her hands away.

If he could have made out her expression he guessed she'd be annoyed. But her hands went to his pants instead, swiftly undoing his fly and beginning to tug them down. Stopping only to tease and push the palm of her hand to the rapidly swelling bulge in his pants.

Undressing each other in the confined space proved to difficult and they broke apart slightly.

They separated as much as was possible in the small space, hands going to remove the remainder of their own garments. When Dean finished shucking off his own boxers, he looked over to see a naked Jo reclining against the cool car door watching him. He pushed her down, somewhat roughly. He was just barely able to see her. Daring him.

He pushed her back against the seat and slid on top of her.

She grabbed his neck and forced their lips together once more. The same hard intense kissing as before. Needy and desperate. One hand slipped under her head, cushioning Jo's head from the car door.

His attempts to drags his lips away from hers were thwarted by her arms pulling him back almost immediately. Even if they were both gasping for breath. His hands picked up the slack, groping her skin, gripping her breasts. He kept up the same rough firmness in his touch.

This wasn't a time to get soft. He cracked a slight smile at his pun. His length pressed against her thigh, managing some friction. He'd learned in these various dreams to keep it away from Jo's grabby hands unless he wanted things over immediately. And that was not the way he wanted this dream to end. Her hands seemed to be busy keeping him pressed close to her.

One hand slipped down Jo's belly, fingers darting through the slightly damp curls at the apex of her thighs. He teased her briefly, ensuring that she would be ready for him but also to watch her squirm when he touched her.

Jo never begged; never asked. Barely made a sound when he touched her. But she would squirm and thrash beneath his hands or mouth, which he had learned to take pride in.

Her legs spread on impulse as he lowered himself closer.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders, legs pulling him in.

He took himself in hand, and began to guide himself in.

"Ah!" She yelped unexpectedly.

The sudden cry startled him, and he stopped.

"What it is it do you see something?" He looked first out the windows, then at Jo's face, surprise played across, maybe a bit of shock.

He noticed something then, a scar burnt into her skin in the shape of a hand. The fingers of the hand extending on Jo's right forearm. He fingered it, and Jo caught sight of his own handprint, curtesy of Castiel. She pressed her hand to it, and then to her own.

He squinted at her skin again. Jo was more than just clean, she was scarless, pristine, and it seemed; virgin. This wasn't just a dream anymore.

Not only was she dead, and too young for him, she was now miraculously completely untouched. Everything he shouldn't have.

Jo was looking up at him in shock, even through her aroused haze she could tell something was not right. She seemed to be realizing just what had accompanied her to this spotless body. And that maybe she was alive after all.

He hadn't had to deflower a girl since he was 19. Dean though about it briefly. It wasn't his favourite pastime. But this was Jo, was she a virgin? Had she been when she died? He hadn't even considered the possibility. Or was it as he thought, that she, like him when he'd been brought back "re-hymenized". He wished he'd never cracked that joke. Sam might have been right. It wasn't that funny.

"So this ain't your fantasy either?" She finally managed in a breathless sort of voice.

Dean hesitated, trying to ignore the pulsing feeling that wouldn't leave him alone, "What now?"

She considered for a moment, "Just do it."

Their aching needy bodies were enough to push them back together.

All of a sudden things changed. It didn't matter if this was just some dream anymore.

"I'll, you know."

"You'll, you know, what?"

He stopped trying to find the right words, "Ease you into it. Nice and slow."

"Fine." She confirmed.

He eased a finger up inside Jo slowly. He thrust slowly testing her reaction.

She groaned pushing her hips up at him desperately.

"Take it easy." Dean reminded her.

She actually rolled her eyes at him so he pulled out.

"Like hell you're gonna stop." Jo called his bluff.

This time it was her hands that reached out for him, pulling him closer and guiding him in. He figured might as well let her have her way.

He slipped himself in slowly, burying himself in Jo. He leaned in and captured her lips for a soft kiss as he eased in the last few inches. He then stayed absolutely still, fighting his more primal instincts, he had to make sure she was alright. It also gave him a chance to get a grip on himself, and prevent himself from losing his shit at the feel of her.

"Still good?" He pulled back just enough to see her face.

"Yeah." She answered shakily, "Gonna move sometime this decade?" She attempted cheekily.

Dean laughed slightly, sending a shudder through both of them.

It wasn't what he intended, but slow and sure it was. And to ensure his own behaviour he let her top him. Let her set the pace as needed. It left his hands free to explore her body as thoroughly as he could. Sitting on the back seat of the impala with Jo riding him at a steadily firmer pace.

It was more detailed than any dream that had come before, he dropped his mouth to her breasts briefly, teasing her dusty rose nipples. Her hair falling in his face as she rocked into him. Her head skimming the roof of the car. Her lean body writhing, driving him in deeper. Pressing him closer to the seat, he felt her twist her hips slightly.

"Oh god. Jo." Dean cried out.

She would have smirked if she could, but as it was she was gasping for breath.

He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, he didn't want to look at her. Not now.

He moved his hand between them, trying to drive her over the edge before she could do the same to him. She shuddered as he stroked her, her movements faltering.

And finally she reached her climax, her head tipping back and mouth gaping silently and Dean began to guide her hips with his hands letting himself go.

The only question left is when would he wake up?


	4. No Waking Up

A few hours later sunrise found them still naked and entwined on the backseat. The handprint on Jo just beginning to fade, he glanced at his own. Unsure of what to make of it. She was asleep on his chest, their legs tangled. His feelings for Jo were complicated, the affection, protectiveness and desire wasn't exactly wrapped up nicely in one little package.

She shivered slightly, so he reached for the blanket shoved under the front seat with one arm. Draped it over her best he could. One of his arms was around her, it felt too good for him to bother moving it. He could always use laziness as an excuse later if she got on his case about it.

She still looked young, he decided looking at her face through the wavy hair that hid some of her face from view. Strands fell across the tattoo on his chest. He mentally noted that he should get Jo tattooed with it sooner rather than later. Even if he wasn't hunting demons might still stalk him. He should probably also cut her with a silver knife and make her drink holy water, probably before they hit the road too. This was seeming less dreamlike by the minute. He grabbed a small bottle of holy water that he noticed under the seat, he sprinkled a little bit on Jo who just shivered slightly from the cold water on her back.

"Jo?"

"Yeah?" She answered sleepily

"How old are you?"

She propped her head up on his chest with her hands, "You're asking me that now?"

"I want to know."

"Twenty-three." She said lazily, stretching slightly.

"Good." Dean felt a relief that she was at least that old.

"Why haven't I woke up yet?"

"Cause I'm not sure you're dreaming."

"What?"

"I was wandering down that stretch of highway trying to hitchhike for what was probably about six hours. I don't know how I wound up there. Or why my scars or gone. Or why I have a gigantic handprint burnt on my arm."

"Good thing I picked you up then. You shouldn't hitchhike Jo-"

"Yeah its so dangerous. Me not being able to protect myself and all, not like I haven't been hunting for two and a half years now."

"You've been dead for nearly a year."

"Guess I'm twenty-four then." She corrected not knowing exactly what to say next.

She was different, that was for sure, the Jo he first met had problems keeping her mouth shut.

She was still a pistol though, Dean smiled at the thought. Oh crap, he was starting to find it endearing.

He moved apart from Jo almost to quickly, and began rummaging for his pants.

"So what now?"

"Now I go find the prophet Chuck and ask him what the hell is going on."

Jo cracked up laughing her hair falling in her face, "No seriously."

"I am serious. There are prophets, one's name is Chuck. And he writes graphic novels about Sam and I. Or he did."

"You're serious." Jo stated, and grabbed for her tanktop. Making a face when she realized it was still ruined.

"And you are welcome to hitchhike if you don't want to come along." Dean smiled as he said this cheerfully.

"Well maybe I will." Jo shot back. "But I guess I'll have to do it topless cause these are still totally ruined."

"Oh no you don't Joanna Beth," Dean purposefully mimicked Ellen, but also smacked her ass.

Jo shot a look back at him, "Now you really sound too much like my mom."

"You want to know what the hell is going on don't you. Something paranormal is happening. We're hunters. We also happen to be the case. What do you do?"

"Follow the leads." Jo answered as if this had been drilled into her skull some time ago. She rolled her eyes.

"Exactly. And right now, our lead is Chuck. Besides, you got blood all over you. You really think someone is going to pick you up besides me?"

They dressed in relative silence, both unsure of the current situation.

Jo threw out her plaid shirt, it was entirely ruined with blood. But she kept the tank top. Dean went to the back of the impala, above the hidden weapons rack was a suitcase, he dug through it for an extra shirt.

He grabbed one of the button up shirts, and handed it to Jo who accepted it wordlessly and pulled it on over top of the tank, it was long enough to hide some of the blood on her jeans and should get them through until they get a chance to get her something else.

"Thanks." Jo said as she finished buttoning up the white shirt.

Dean shrugged, and climbed back in the Impala, starting the engine as Jo got in and heading off to see Chuck.

The drive was quiet, he thought about putting on a cassette but somehow it just made him think of Jo's favourite song.

"How far is it to Chuck's?"

"Far enough." Dean flicked on the radio, changing it quickly to his mullet rock.

TBC...


	5. Getting Weird

The sun crept leisurely into the hotel room.

Dean grunted into the pillow slightly realizing they'd have to get going if they wanted to try to catch Chuck today.

Suddenly dark blonde hair seemed to be everywhere as Jo leaned across him to grab the phone, allowing her hair to fall into his face.

He still hadn't woken up. This day was still making no sense. Stop at the thrift store last night had found Jo with some new clothes, but no Chuck.

They'd stood on his doorstep hoping to catch him last night. Before Jo got fed up of waiting and they'd found a hotel.

They'd pretty much crashed the night before. Slept right through until morning.

If this was a whacked out dream, it didn't look like he was going to wake up.

They dressed silently. Neither one really knowing what to say. Jo walked wordlessly into the bathroom.

"Dean?" the masculine voice was recognized even before the door opened.

"Cas?" He called from the other side as he quickly opened the door.

Castiel stood outside the door, a take-out bag in one hand the other held in what was probably supposed to be a wave.

"So you show up now?" Dean lashed out, "Think you could tell me exactly what's going on?"

"I've been following you." The response came quickly, Castiel shoved the bag of take-out at Jo, "Eat quickly, there's not much time."

Dean reached for the bag, when Cas quickly slapped his hand away, "Not you. Her."

Jo pulled out the styrofoam container and the plastic fork before opening the take out, it was breakfast food. Not hamburger, or some other strange thing Dean wondered briefly if someone else had told him what to bring.

Jo's mouth opened before she thought better of it, and decided to follow instructions.

Dean looked from Cas back to Jo, "Hey! why does she get eggs and sausage?"

"Because someone is following, other than me."

"Some demon?" Jo asked between bites of scrambled egg.

An odd expression fell over his face, "Worse."

"Angels. Damn angels." Dean's head fell into his hands.

Castiel looked expressionless for a moment, then disappeared leaving things rather open.

"Cas? CAS!" Dean yelled, ignoring the obvious futility of his actions.

"What the hell do we do now?"

TBC...

Authors Note: As a rather busy university student I will try to finish this story over the next month and a bit... I am sorry about the delays.


End file.
